Tell Your Harts to Beat Again
by adcgordon
Summary: The loss of a dear friend is heart breaking. When that friend has been part of your life, as much as any family member, how do you pick yourself up and find a way to continue living? Jonathan and Jennifer face this challenge together with memories and each other to see them through.


Hi Friends and Fellow H2H Fans!

I am rediscovering this show from my childhood and loving every minute of it! I've felt a slight hint of a muse encouraging me to write about these lovable characters - but the strongest feeling that hit me was after being reminded that our beloved Max is no longer with us. That's where this story idea was born.

I'm attempting to get my thoughts together as different ideas come to mind. So any encouragement and suggestions are certainly welcome. This first chapter is short - I'm hoping that muse will help me develop my ideas a little further as the story grows!

I hope you'll be patient with me! Thanks for giving this a shot!  
-adcgordon  
#RediscoveringH2H

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 **Tell Your Harts to Beat Again**

The couple walked away from the ceremony silently, shoulder to shoulder, steps in sync with chins dipped low as they watched the path in front of them. The lady in the lovely black dress and high heels took a deep breath and lifted her eyes only to see how far they were from their vehicle. The gentleman in the smart black suit lifted his feet heavily as though he really didn't want to leave the scene behind them.

The twosome reached their car, an older model Rolls Royce, which they'd opted to drive instead of riding in the family car that normally follows a hearse in funeral processions. Jonathan reached into his pocket to retrieve the keys and then placed his other hand on top of the Rolls and stood still. He turned his head slightly only to look back at the short line of people following them from the small tent where they had just bid farewell to the man who had been more than a family member to Jonathan since childhood.

Jonathan's wife, Jennifer, watched her husband carefully. The last two months had taken its toll on both of them but she knew driving away from the cemetery would potentially be Jonathan's breaking point. He had stayed strong through Max's final days and hours. He had proceeded to call Max's niece and nephew – his two, true, blood relatives, and the gambling buddies who were Max's third family, to tell them of his passing. And he had held it together through the funeral.

She knew her husband was battling his intense need to get into the car and put on his sunglasses to cover the tears in his eyes. The only thing keeping him from opening the door was the thought of leaving Max behind.

"Jonathan," she raised her voice just enough to make sure he heard her.

"Don't," he mumbled without looking at her.

Jennifer hesitated just a moment as she observed his body language. Jonathan's jaw was strong, set as though he was angry, except for the little quiver that she noted. She imagined, in that moment, that Max Templeton had probably been one of the few people to witness her husband in this state.

Her mind conjured up a memory of a pre-teen boy, scared but strong, unsure of the future and not wanting to admit it. She could see the boy standing on a street corner in ratty clothes and old tennis shoes beside Max, who placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, shattering the young one's composure.

Jennifer swallowed the hot tears that quickly dripped from her eyes with the thought of her husband in such a vulnerable state. Vulnerable. That was one word to describe his heart at the moment. And if she admitted it, hers was right there with him.

Even though she was less than a step away from her husband, awaiting his next move, she edged herself closer to him, still trying not to impede his line of sight. The others were getting into their cars; doors quietly closed and the sound of engines began to buzz in the cool afternoon air.

"Jonathan," she tried again, attempting to make her voice softer.

His eyes only moved to meet hers after Jennifer placed her fingertips against his shoulder. She witnessed the buildup of tears, swelling in his bottom eyelids. He pressed his lips together trying to hold back his emotions but shook his head knowing the effort was futile.

"I can't," he tilted his head slightly, shoulders shaking involuntarily.

Jennifer quickly wrapped her arms around her husband and joined his tears with hers as they pressed their cheeks together. Both felt their strength dwindling as they held each other.

They stood for several minutes in each others' arms, struggling to breathe in and out around the sadness that enveloped them.

Jonathan moved his hand to his wife's shoulder and gripped it firmly. He separated them unwillingly before raising his lips to her forehead and resting them there.

"I don't know how to leave him here," he swallowed roughly as he finally spoke against her skin.

"I know," she agreed before pressing herself back to him and gripping the back of his jacket in her fists.

Jennifer dragged in a slow, cleansing breath and made the first intentional movement toward their next step. She lifted her hand to her husband's cheek using her thumb to gently wipe away the wetness pooling under his eyes.

She cleared her throat and smiled sadly until Jonathan looked at her.

"He wouldn't want us to stand here crying," she coaxed. "He loved it when we were together. Just… together," her voice dropped as another wave of the truth surrounded her.

Jonathan knew she was right. He could hear the gravelly-voiced father figure telling them both to _"Stop it, you two. I don't need all this attention."_

With a shallow breath he released his hold on Jennifer and questioningly held the keys out to her. "Can you drive home, please?" He requested. With another shake of his head he opened the car door for his wife. "I don't know how to do this, without him being here."

Jonathan looked once more at the raw, open, grave site where the cemetery employees were quietly working to lower Max's casket into its final resting place. He didn't wait for Jennifer to answer before sliding himself around to the passenger side and begrudgingly found his way inside.

He grabbed his sunglasses from the tray above the mirror and slid them onto his face while Jennifer sat down in the driver's seat and reached for her purse. She pulled a tissue out and dabbed under her eyes before putting the keys in the ignition.

With a deep lingering breath she looked at her husband. He leaned the seat back slightly and rested his head against the leather cushion. "I love you," she offered.

Jonathan's left hand mindlessly reached to his wife's face, laying against her cheek for only a moment before sliding down her arm and finding her right hand to grip.

Jennifer watched a few cars pull away from the curb and drive past them. She hurt for her husband. Her own heart ached for the family member they had lost. She knew their home would never be the same and yet that's where they needed to return to try and continue their lives.

She slowly released the grip on Jonathan's hand, gave it a gentle rub and placed it onto his own thigh with one more squeeze. Then she wrapped both hands tightly around the steering wheel and held in another round of tears that threatened to flood.

"I love you, too," Jonathan whispered as the car began to move. The couple's silence was uncomfortable but understood. Their love would see them through this just like other rough times in their life. Jennifer took a deep breath, checked her mirrors and then let the car drive them back to their Malibu home as though Max was still at the helm.

 **H2H - TYHTBA – H2H**


End file.
